


Returned So Soon

by DoubleJinx



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, F/M, Game Spoilers, Gore, Groundhog Day, M/M, Not super ship heavy but has some referenced stuff, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, Wendigo Josh Washington
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:04:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleJinx/pseuds/DoubleJinx
Summary: "Everything was growing dark, his mind replaying the memory of the light dying from Josh’s eyes.Someone was vomiting. Chris wished he could have done something. He wished that there was anything he could have done to stop all that had occurred to bring himself and Josh to this point. If Chris could just have another chance. If he could just do something, anything, to at least know he'd tried a little harder to keep his friends safe."An AU in which Chris gets a second chance to save the people closest to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IF YE HAD THA CHANCE TO CHANGE YER FATE
> 
> WOULD YA
> 
> Thanks to "The Bomb-ity of Errors" for the fic title and to @brooklantis for helping me come up with this angsty plotline. Inspired vaguely by the Tom Cruise movie "The Edge of Tomorrow" which y'all should definitely check out if you haven't.

Slick boots trudged through muck-ridden pools of water, lapping against the soles of the group’s feet and echoing through the damp mines. The gentle splashes served one of the only sounds keeping them all from complete silence-- Complete silence that was pierced by the occasional agonized shriek, the horrible, grating screeches bouncing off of stone walls and into the ears of unwilling victims. The all-too familiar sound sent a shudder down Chris’s spine, even with the reassurance of others at his sides. 

The group surrounding him consisted only of strangers, which was perhaps part of the reason Chris felt so uneasy. It left him trapped in his own mind, unwilling to force joking conversation with those around him. Even if he held any semblance of an idea to discuss at the moment, Chris doubted that he would have spoken. The policemen trekking onward had a ‘no nonsense’ sort of attitude about the situation, and rightfully so. Even if they didn’t know all that awaited them in the mines, the aura surrounding the restricted area seemed to pulse with a warning energy. As if it were trying to insist that they avoid entering the cursed mines in the first place. 

Chris wished that he could listen to his instincts. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep himself from bolting towards the exit and never have think about wendigos or old cabins ever again. He was kept there only by a sliver of hope that had him begging the policemen at his side to let him come along. The only good thing that might come out of this trip; Josh Washington. 

Best case scenario? They found Josh alive. They would find him huddled in a dark corner, perhaps starving and dehydrated and out of his damn mind, but alive. Chris knew deep down that this would not happen. Whatever state they found Josh in, it would not be that. And the worst…? He supposed… They might come up upon Josh’s half-eaten, decrepit body, and Chris would recognize him. It was an image that had haunted his nightmares every night since the one that had initiated this mess in the first place. He could picture Josh’s neck twisted wickedly, barely attached to his body by worn sinew and muscles, bones splintered and emerging from unnatural angles through stripped, bloodless skin--

“Hold it.” A hand reached out to press against Chris’s chest, halting him and his train of thought in their tracks. Another shriek sounded from within the mines, louder than any of the cries they'd been hearing as afternoon sunk to dusk. It had to be evening now, if the wendigos were growing so suddenly active. Chris’s blood ran cold, cheeks paling at the thought. There was no sun in the mines. It was nearly impossible to track the time down there in the darkness, but the wendigos did not need watches or cell phones to know hunger. To know that it was time to awaken. To know that it was time to EAT. 

“Shit.” Chris uttered, quietly. He remained frozen as policemen shouldered past him, drawing their weapons. Guns. They'd do nothing against the wendigos. He knew that for certain. He might have stood there for eternity, limbs locked with fear, if someone hadn't shouted. Not in alarm or pain as expected, but in surprise. 

“Hey! There’s a fucking kid down here!” 

Kid. The screams hadn't been high enough pitched to be a child. But if not a child, then by kid, could the cop mean--?

Chris pushed forward without caution, his legs sending him stumbling through the group of people before reason could catch up with him. By the time he caught sight of what had caused the shout in the first place, Chris’s reason disappeared completely. Best case-scenario was that Josh Washington was alive. The worst was finding him beaten and bloody and extremely dead. The scene that greeted him appeared to be a mix between the two. 

“Hey! We're here to help! We’re-- Holy shit!” The policeman’s voice turned fearful just as Chris registered exactly what he was seeing. Josh Washington was crouched animalistically over a mangled, unrecognizable corpse. Long fingernails ripped through decomposing flesh, hungrily stuffing bits and pieces into a mouthful of needle-sharp fangs. At the shout, Josh turned suddenly to the group, eyes void of comprehension. Half of the boy’s face was demon-like and horribly reminiscent of the wendigos Chris wished would disappear from his brain. And as Josh turned… Chris saw his best friend. He recognized his friend’s droopy eyes and square jawline, his gaze scanning pale cheeks and full lips that morphed into a cruel, toothy sneer. Worst of all was the growl that ripped through Josh’s throat, a threatening snarl directed towards the imposing group. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Chris watched a gun being drawn. Several guns, in fact, as Josh tried to stand. Chris’s chest ached at the sight of Josh’s half-stumble, as though he'd attempted to stand up straight, but his horrid condition forced him into a sort of contorted, crouched stance. Reason having yet to return, Chris darted forward. He couldn't accept that Josh was gone. He wouldn't accept that Josh was gone. 

“Wait!” Chris’s voice sounded louder than Josh’s growls, abruptly cutting off the sound as all attention turned to him. There had to be a little of Josh left, right? Could his humanity disappear so suddenly, even looking as human as he did? 

Yes, Chris discovered almost instantly. It could vanish just as quickly as Josh could launch his body into the other, effectively knocking Chris into a swampy puddle of filth. His glasses were knocked askew, the world around him blurring everything but Josh’s face only inches from his own. His hot, rancid breath washed over Chris’s face, the rotting scent causing him to gag. He remained frozen, staring blankly up at the half-demon and attempting to tune out the panicked shouting around them. 

“J-Josh. Josh, it's me, it's Chris, it's--” He attempted to stammer, desperate for any sign of humanity left in the boy straddled above him. He watched as Josh raise a bone-y hand, the motion slightly forced and jerky. Long fingernails were sharpened into harsh points, as though a knife were attached to each of his thin fingers. Chris did not struggle as the hand dropped swiftly downwards into his stomach, his brain suddenly too numb to register pain. Too numb to register the abrupt fact that he was dying, or that his insides were currently exposed to the spectators that observed in horror. 

His vision was blurring worse, but Chris doubted that it was something his glasses could fix. Josh was staring at him as weapons were fumbled for and trained onto the wendigo. There was horrible recognition in Josh’s face now, visible for the briefest moment before Chris watched a bullet enter the brain of his best friend. Josh went still, body stiff and lips parted in silent surprise before he went limp. His head dropped against Chris’s face, and Chris couldn't even manage a cough to purge Josh’s blood from seeping his mouth. He wasn't processing the world around him anymore. Everything was growing dark, his mind replaying the memory of the light dying from Josh’s eyes. 

Someone was vomiting. Chris wished he could have done something. He wished that there was anything he could have done to stop all that had occurred to bring himself and Josh to this point. If Chris could just have another chance. If he could just do something, anything, to at least know he'd tried a little harder to keep his friends safe. 

“Uh...n…” Chris managed. He was choking on the taste of blood, some Josh’s and some his own. And then everything went dark. 

~~~ 

“Ah. I see. You've chosen to save Ashley.” A deep, garbled voice cut through the darkness as Chris’s vision slowly returned. Chris was no longer laying on the ground. In fact, Chris was no longer in the mines at all. His fingers curled painlessly around the handle of a switch, staring straight ahead through a chain-link fence that separated himself from Ashley and Josh. Ashley and Josh. Josh. Josh was alive. And Chris was--

“OH GOD, JOSH!!!” 

“I thought we were friends, man! I thought we were friends, why would you do this?!” 

Chris had to be in a memory. But this wasn't how this all had happened before. He remembered shouting with his friends in a panic as they yelled right back. They’d watch Josh’s guts spill open, only to discover later that no harm had been done at all. Perhaps that was why Chris didn't call out now. He knew what was to come, and he wasn't afraid. Not of this. 

“NO GOD WHAT DID I DO?!” Josh was shrieking. Ashley was screaming, frozen as she stared horrified at the spinning sawblade. Chris remembered that he had told her to look away before. He could not speak now, but only watch as Ashley cried out just as horribly as Josh’s body was torn in half. His fake body. But Ashley didn't know that. 

“Chris! Chris, oh my god, please, oh my god--” Ashley’s sobs turned to whimpers as she shook her head in disbelief. This memory was different. Ashley had not reacted this way before, because Chris had told her not to look. She wasn't supposed to look…

“Get me down, please, oh god oh god….” He watched Ashley struggle against her bindings. The fence unlocked as if on cue, allowing him access to the others. Chris seemed to understand then, at least a little of what had happened. With his dying breath, he'd wished for another chance, and some divine force had granted him the opportunity. 

Chris had wished himself back into a nightmare.


	2. Chapter 2

“What the… Fuck… What the FUCK…?” Chris was muttering as he forced himself into action. Stiff limbs forced him through the open gate as he rushed to Ashley’s aid. The girl was barely fighting her restraints now, instead just sobbing quietly with her head turned away from Josh’s body. Chris stared at Josh as he passed, fighting back the urge to gag. The job had been done pretty convincingly, and even Josh’s expression was slack and lifeless. He reminded himself that it wasn’t real-- That none of this could be real-- As he worked with fumbling fingers to release Ashley from her bindings. 

“C-come on, let’s go-- I’m gonna get you out of here.” Chris tried to assure her, the words familiar on his tongue as he spoke them aloud. His voice shook, barely keeping it together. Seeing Josh supposedly killed again was terrible itself, but what really had him shaken was the fact that he was not laying dead in the mines as he should have been. He should have been dead, and he wasn’t. 

Chris caught the girl as she fell limply from her restraints, biting down hard on his tongue as Ashley curled into his chest, gripping his jacket with weak, trembling fingers. Her fear seemed to strengthen his resolve, his thoughts racing until they settled on a solution. He needed to lead Ashley out of there. That would be his current objective, and after that… Well, he’d get there when he had a better grip of what the hell was going on. 

“We gotta go, okay--?” Chris tried to prevent Ashley from lifting her head to no avail, in which she got her first real look at Josh’s body. Chris swallowed back the bile rising in his throat as Ashley gave another shriek at the sight, horrified. 

“No! No no no!” She cried, struggling against him as Chris insisted on leading her elsewhere. Ashley didn’t need to look at this any longer. They would both feel better once they were out of the room and calmed down. Chris needed to clear his thoughts, and Ashley’s desperate wails certainly weren’t helping. He managed to lead her into the next room over, both of them breathing hard. Ashley’s face was buried into his jacket once more, and all Chris could manage was a gentle pat with his hand against her back in a manner he hoped was soothing. He felt sick, but not as a result of the fake gore that was being smeared across his front or even Josh’s dummy that they’d left behind. What was happening to him? Why was this happening to him? Ashley’s body pressed warmly against his own; a reminder that this was more than a memory. No memory could stain his skin and clothing with fake blood, or even give him insight to the damn future. If this was fake, then why did he know what would happen next? And what would happen next was…

Josh. Chris had already forgotten Josh again. Some fucking friend he was, for leaving his not-dead friend behind. Again. He had made this same mistake before. Maybe that was what had returned him to the past? Was he supposed to correct his mistakes? If that was the case, he was already doing a pretty shitty job at that. Ashley was in a panic and Chris had just left Josh, fully knowing that the boy’s death had been an act. 

“Don’t leave.” Ashley whispered, feeling Chris begin to pull away. Her voice sounded so small that Chris couldn’t help but pause, reason wavering. 

“I should check on Josh. He’s still out there.” Or maybe he wasn’t. Josh might have already run off to begin the next portion of his plan. 

“Is there anything left to check on? He got cut in half, Chris,” Ashley insisted, staring up at him with puffy, red eyes. She sounded thoroughly broken by the fact, giving another disbelieving shake of her head. “And what if that psycho comes after me while you’re out there? What if he goes after you?”

“He won’t.” Chris said, firmly. Not here, not now. Ashley fell silent at the finality of Chris’s words, wiping her eyes with the sleeve that had not been drenched in fake blood. Ashley allowed him to take a step back, then move back into the room that had held his friends just a few moments previous. Much to his dismay, Josh was gone. The dead body remained as it had been, but Josh’s head had disappeared. Chris couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief, as if he’d needed the reassurance that Josh hadn’t been brutally killed after all. Not now, at least. If everything went as it had in the memories Chris possessed, neither of them would make it much longer than that night. 

He realized a moment later, with a pang of hurt, that Josh had not expected Chris and Ashley to stick around. Why else would Josh had left so hurriedly after such a convincing act? The boy had not expected Chris to check on his body or mourn him in the slightest, much less Ashley. Did Josh really think so little of his best friend? Chris grimaced, realizing that Josh had the right to think as such. Chris had gone off with Ashley back to the house last time, rather than stick around, because suddenly Chris had remembered--

“Sam.” He murmured, quietly. He turned suddenly back to the doorway, in which Ashley had slowly began to emerge from. 

“Sam?” She repeated, raising her brows in confusion at the sudden statement.

“She’s still in the house, right?” Of course Sam was in the house. She’d have no reason to leave yet. But if Josh had left Ashley and Chris, than that was certainly where he was headed now. When Ashley was silent, Chris continued, “We might be able to get there before he does, and then we can get out of this whole mess before it all goes to hell.” 

Ashley pressed her lips tightly together, as if contemplating. She hesitated before giving a nod, to which Chris seemed relieved. 

“Okay. We’ll go back in after Sam,” Her gaze turned firm, as if she felt braver with Chris there beside her. Chris grabbed for her hand and gave it a grateful squeeze before rushing back towards the main house. 

~~~

“What makes you think she’s in the basement? Shouldn’t we check, like, literally anywhere else first?” Ashley stood at the top of the stairs as Chris attempted to descend them, turned to face the girl as she protested. She was right, he supposed. If Chris hadn’t known otherwise, he definitely would have avoided the basement until the last possible moment. But he knew that Sam was down there. He was beginning to force himself through his denial, accepting that this was, in-fact, his reality. 

“I… Heard a noise,” Chris lied, quickly. There was no way that Ashley would believe him if he tried to insist that he was from the future or something. Was he from the future? Was Chris some sort of horror movie-chic Marty McFly? He wasn’t sure, but right then was not the time to be thinking about it. He’d have time for that later when everyone was getting the hell out of there and away from the wendigo threat before it happened at all. When Ashley gave him a doubtful look, he continued, “Really! I did! I swear I’m not screwing with you, Ash.” 

Ashley gave a sigh and slowly followed after him, holding her breath as though waiting for something to jump out at the two of them the second she followed after. When nothing did, she heaved a sigh behind him and crept along close behind. 

Everything was going the same as it had before. Chris remembered everything, from the dollhouse set up like the night of Hannah and Beth’s death to the ‘ghost’ that jumped out at him from a doorway (that admittedly still made him jump, even knowing what was coming). Why was everything going the same as before? Chris knew what he needed to do. He needed to get everyone back together so that they could all escape. But how easy could doing so actually be? 

“Oh CRAP.” Chris uttered as they came upon a familiar sight: a dummy wearing Sam’s clothing. He had thought that they had been faster than before, but apparently not fast enough. He’d spent too long comforting Ashley and getting the girl to cooperate with him. And if the dummy was here, that meant--

“She’s through the double doors. C’mon, Ash, we gotta go,” Chris insisted. Ashley turned and frowned at him, expression worried. 

“Do you think it was--?”

“Yeah, it was, but we gotta go.” And as Chris had recalled, Sam was sitting unconscious in a chair just a few feet away from the door. Ashley rushed forward, and Chris found himself chasing after her, much to his dismay, 

“Sam! Chris, is she dead? Holy shit, holy shit--”

“She’s not dead,” Chris assured quickly. They needed to hurry and get Sam the hell out of there. “Look, she’s breathing. She’s unconscious. Listen, I’ll pick her up, and, uh…” He was hit with the realization that Sam was wearing only a towel, and suddenly the thought of picking her up was rather embarrassing. What if she woke up in his arms and thought that he was the Psycho?

Wait. What was it that happened after they found Sam? He and Ashley had discussed her condition, and then Josh had--

Chris whipped around and nearly jumped back at the sight of Josh barely inches away from himself, still disguised in his mask and costume. Apparently the other hadn’t been expecting Chris to turn so suddenly, judging by how the limbs of the Psycho froze up in surprise before shoving a gas mask to Chris’s face. Had Chris registered the situation faster, he was confident that he could have taken Josh in a fair fight. Josh was broad shouldered, but Chris was taller, and not nearly as mentally ill. 

However, this fight was not a fair one. The gas was leaking into Chris’s mouth and nose, clogging his airways and forcing sleepiness upon him before he could even struggle. 

“CHRIS! Holy--!” Ashley cried. Chris attempted to bat pathetically at the Psycho’s mask before his knees gave way, and he was forced slowly downwards. 

“J...osh…” He croaked, voice muffled slightly by the mask. The fingers gripping his hair tensed at his words. Chris felt his body going limp, a horrible reminder that his efforts to change the past had done nothing to protect his friends.

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on Instagram and tumblr!
> 
> Insta:  
> art - @ambitiouscognition  
> cosplay- @cognitiveambition
> 
> Tumblr:  
> @ambitiouscognition


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